


Up On the Road Ahead

by chwangdol



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Car Sex, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Rape/Non-con, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwangdol/pseuds/chwangdol
Summary: Otabek comes into Yuri's life bringing violence and the promise of a better life. Based on All the Stars in Texas by Ludo.





	Up On the Road Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> Also inspired the music video of Irreversible by Gain. And the title is from the lyrics of Dustbus by Biting Elbows. This was a very self-indulgent fic and I should have been working on other WIPs, but I hope you enjoy.

Yuri watches the black Jaguar pull up in front of their beat up shop. He doesn’t know shit about cars but that one looks nice. Expensive. Which means Yuri probably has a job.

He glances back at his mom; she’s reading a tabloid while tapping the ashes off her cigarette on an empty metal shelf.

Her boyfriend’s working the cash register as always. He’d never let him or his mom handle any money except when Yuri’s running a job. Even then he sets the prices and demands a strip search every time Yuri comes back.

It always ends up as more than a search. Yuri’s gotten used to it.

Milo gives him an expectant eyebrow raise and Yuri sighs before getting into position. He leans against one of the more organized shelves, stealing a cherry-vanilla lollipop as he does. The heals on his leather boots already emphasize his legs and ass, and along with the fishnets and tight shorts most of the job is done for him, but he still does his best to stand in a way that emphasizes his assets. 

The mirrored security camera gives him a slightly warped view of his reflection. His cheap eyeliner has already smudged, but matched with the rest of his look he can pretend that was intentional. His leather jacket hangs off his skinny frame. It’s still small enough that it shows off his ass, but he knows he’ll have to find something else once he can’t use the spring weather as an excuse for the thicker jacket.

He sucks the lollipop into his mouth with a flick of his tongue and side-eyes the door. Over the years of convincing men to pay for a night with him, he’s mastered the act of “accidental” temptation. At first glance it’s obvious to anyone with a brain what he is, but most of the men who he catches the eye of aren’t thinking with their brain.

The man who comes in today is well dressed in a smart looking cardigan and white button-up. The cufflinks and designer shoes tell Yuri everything he needs to know about him. He has money, and he’s willing to spend it. Everything Yuri needs for a successful customer.

He gives him some space for a bit, watches as he flits around the small store without an obvious purpose. He finally stops at shelves lined with granola bars, and Yuri takes the moment to step beside him, still a respectful distance away. 

He pretends to examine a bar, turning it over in his free hand as the other rolls the candy against his lips. Yuri can feel the moment the man looks over at him, and Yuri allows himself to glance back. 

The stare of those dark eyes isn’t one Yuri was prepared for. It’s intense, more so than usual, especially since it’s coming from someone so  _ attractive _ . The guy’s young, can’t be over thirty, and his gaze is somewhere between anger and curiosity. Yuri can’t read him to save his life.

He ignores his uncertainty and goes on as usual; he blinks at him. It’s innocent. Kitten-like, and mixed with the way he draws the candy into his red-stained mouth he gets just the vibe all these men are after.

The man’s reply is a small smirk. Usually Yuri would dart around the obvious subject, flirt a little, make small talk, but today he finds himself cutting straight to the point.

“You interested in some company?”

He’s surprised when the guy responds to his question by reaching over, stroking rough fingers against his jaw and chin, “Very much so,” he tells him, and Yuri lets himself smile. 

The guy grabs a random bar and Yuri follows him to the counter, stuffing his free hand into his pockets as the other continues to twist and fuss with the lollipop in his mouth.

He keeps his distance from Milo as his customer throws down the bar and a few bills onto the counter. When they leave he can see him giving him an expectant look, and it takes everything Yuri has to not glare back at his mom’s asshole of a boyfriend.

The dude opens the car door for Yuri and Yuri allows himself to relax a little in the leather seat. He opens his mouth to speak when the guy gets in the car, but he doesn’t get the chance.

Instead the dude gives him a mildly unsettling smile and tells Yuri he’ll be right back before leaving again. Yuri watches him go, twisting around in the seat until he’s out of view. 

The street the little corner store resides is empty despite it being the middle of the day. It’s a bad part of town, there’s not usually many people out and about. It makes Yuri’s job easier since the only guys who  _ do  _ have the guts to stop at the run-down store also have the guts to sleep with a cheap whore.

Today, however, the silence of the neighborhood is unsettling. Yuri let’s himself look around the car he’s in. It’s all clean, almost a little too clean. Not even a hint of dust on the dash or consoles. There’s no map tucked away anywhere, no trash from past meals. The glove box is locked, but he left his wallet in the driver’s seat. As if on purpose. 

Yuri breathes out an agitated sigh and picks up the small leather rectangle. There’s a good amount of cash, tucked in all nice and wrinkle-free. And there’s also a license. The man from before’s dark eyes stare at him in picture form now, and Yuri reads over the information.

Otabek Altin. 

Yuri looks back at the shop, from where they’re parked he can only see the advertisements that cover the windows. He crunches down on the sucker in his mouth and rubs his candy covered tongue against his sharp tooth. 

What the fuck is that guy doing?

His hand hovers over the door handle. He should really go see what’s going on, but his instincts are telling him to stay put. 

So he does. He sits in the luxury car, chewing on the white stick from the lollipop and memorizing the info on the guy’s licence. It’s the only card in the wallet. No credit cards, no punch cards, not even some old expired gift card. Just a driver’s license.

It feels like an eternity until the guy -- Otabek, comes back, and Yuri almost jumps out of his skin when he does. He’d stopped watching the window and let himself space out, wallet still clutched in his hand. 

A bag is thrown in his lap. It’s an ugly worn paisley thing that looks familiar. Yuri gives it a quizzical stare before dropping the wallet and letting himself pull at the zippers.

“Hope that’s enough to cover your services,” Otabek says as the engine roars to life and Yuri is left with his mouth agape.

The bag is filled to the brim with cash. And under that is his mother’s small collection of jewelry. He knows why the bag’s familiar now. He knows just where it used to sit, in his mother and Milo’s closet right by her worn pair of black heels. In their small little living area behind the shop.

An old silver locket hangs off his fingers, dangling against the cash that’s now falling out into his lap. Yuri swallows and turns his attention over to Otabek.

He’s focused on the road, but he takes his gaze away just long enough to give Yuri a small smile. 

Yuri’s eyes fall down, to the expensive cufflinks and once clean white cuffs. There’s blood staining it now, clear as day, and Yuri can hardly form thoughts let alone words.

He turns his blank stare to the road, clutching the locket in his hand now. 

His mom is dead. Milo is dead. They’re back at the shop, probably lying in a puddle of blood.

Yuri laughs, allowing his blank expression to transform into a giddy smile. 

“You killed them,” he finally says allowed. Hearing himself say it gives it a new kind of reality.

Otabek responds with a curt, “Yes.”

Yuri looks over at him, ignoring the hair that falls forward at the moment, “Just for the money?”

They pull up to a stoplight, the click of the turning signal fills the car.

Otabek takes a while to respond, “I know what they do to you, Yuri.”

Yuri looks down at the money, pulls some of the loose bills into neat stacks before shoving them back in the bag, “So what? You’re some kind of stalker?”

Otabek’s hand stiffens on the wheel, “We met seven years ago. At a police station west of here.”

Yuri blinks. He remembers frequent nights spent in a station’s waiting room as an angry officer phones his mom repeatedly.

“Your grandpa picked you up back then, and the officers didn’t want to let you go with him.”

They get stuck at another red light, more traffic appearing around them as they leave the bad parts of town. 

“So you finally just ran out and got in his car, and the officers gave up and let him take you,” Otabek continues, “It wasn’t a proper meeting. We didn’t speak much. But you told me your name and threw an ice pack down at my feet. I could tell it disgusted you when I picked it up. You had so much pride. You were in a torn up hoodie and ripped sweatpants, but you still held your head up so high. I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”

Yuri’s place the bag on the floor. Despite only feeling relieved at his mother and Milo’s deaths, holding at it still makes him feel a little queasy. Instead, he picks at a loose thread in his fishnets as Otabek speaks.

“So what then? You stalked me from then on?” Yuri asks with a scoff, and Otabek’s mouth quirks into a small smile again.

“No. I saw you again about a month ago. You had just finished sucking a guy off in an alley, and I followed you home,” Otabek’s fingers tap against the steering wheel, “I could lie and tell you I was worried about you, but I’ll admit it was much more of an infatuation. You grew up to be even more gorgeous than I could have imagined.”

Yuri feels his cheeks heat up despite himself. 

“And then I had to see that asshole drag you in by your arm and fucking throw you against a counter. In plan view of the street. Not like anyone else was out there but still. He fucking stripped you down in front of an open window and took you against the counter in plain view of the neighborhood and your mom.”

Yuri looks down at his lap, at the finger he’s fidgeted all the way under his fishnets, “So you kill them?” 

“Killed them and robbed them,” Otabek shrugs, “A normal job for me.”

“So what? You’re some kind of hitman then?”

Otabek takes some time answering Yuri’s question, focusing instead on a turn that leads them to a freeway. 

“No. I just kill and rob.”

Yuri turns his attention back to Otabek, lets his eyes rake over him. He finds the giddiness returning as he imagines Otabek holding cashiers at gunpoint, being the classic criminal that Yuri used to see in movies. 

“Alone?” he asks, with a smirk, and when Otabek’s eyes meet his he knows he gets what he’s implying.

“Maybe not for long.”

\--

When they stop at a store a while after, Yuri can hear his heart beating in his chest. Otabek laughs when he looks over at him. 

“Calm down, tiger. We’re stopping to spend money not take it. And I need to go change,” he grabs his wallet from where Yuri left it on the cup holders and takes out the cash to hand to Yuri, “Here, go get some food and drinks. Anything you want.”

Yuri looks at the money he’s been handed and then down at the bag. Otabek reaches over and closes his hand around the money.

“The stuff in the bag is yours. I’m paying tonight,” Otabek exits the car before Yuri can argue and goes to the trunk. Yuri folds the money and shoves it in his pocket before getting out. The gas station they’ve stopped at is old and grey, with a door to the bathroom on the outside. Probably why Otabek chose it.

Otabek’s still rummaging around in the trunk, so Yuri goes in by himself. There’s a few other customers, and the cashier looks bored as all hell. 

He grabs one of the dingy baskets and lets himself throw in whatever looks good. He can barely carry it by the time he gets to the register, and the cashier looks annoyed at the large purchase.

With every beep of the scanner Yuri waits for Otabek to burst in with a gun in hand. His grin widens the more and more vivid his imagination becomes. 

He thinks of laughing with Otabek as the man cowers behind his counter. He can see Otabek tossing Yuri a bag to unload the money into and letting him take his sweet time picking out a few other things from his inventory. 

The gun goes off, before the man can even beg for his life. Yuri’s mouth goes dry. Otabek kisses him with the steaming gun still in his hand, that small smile melting against Yuri’s devious grin.

“10,000  ₽,” the voice of the cashier rips Yuri out of his daydream. He tosses the cash on the counter and picks up his bags, licking his chapped lips as he walks back to Otabek’s car.

He throws the bags carelessly into the back seats, waiting until he’s seated in the passenger seat again before reaching over to grab the bottle of vodka he’d bought. It’s only a mid-grade brand, the most expensive one the rundown shop had, but it’s so much better than what Yuri’s used to.

He takes a swig and lets it burn against his throat and another, bigger one when he sees Otabek approaching. 

Gone are the pressed slacks and stiff cardigan, instead he’s dressed in a plain black sweater and tight leather pants. Yuri tries his best not to stare as Otabek walks around the car to drop the black duffel in the trunk, but he knows he fails terribly.

He bites his lip as he watches Otabek start the car.

“You paid for at least a night,” Yuri tells him with a reminding kick to the bag at his feet, “So take me somewhere where I can take care of you.”

\--

The somewhere ends up being further down onto an empty backroad. Otabek’s hand is already on Yuri’s thigh, fingering at the fishnets and pulling them so they dig into Yuri’s skin. A squeeze a little higher than the others has Yuri removing his seatbelt and leaning over the divider to press a wet kiss to Otabek’s neck.

He gets a hand in his hair in response, pushing his head down to a more intimate area. Yuri’s quick to get to work undoing the laces on the tight pants, pulling them down just enough to get Otabek’s dick out.

He licks his lips at the sight of his tan shaft, already wet with precum. The sweater he’s wearing is long enough to conceal his crotch, so Yuri has no idea how long Otabek’s been hard for. 

Otabek’s hand is still in his hair, pulling it out of his face with a steady fist at the back of his neck. His other hand is still tight around the steering wheel, his eyes are still on the empty road. Yuri smiles at the challenge, and starts with an experimental lick to the dripping head. 

The hand leaves his hair to undo his own seatbelt, and then it’s back there, fingers racking into his scalp as he gathers it back into a fist. 

Yuri secures himself with his hands on Otabek’s thighs and then gets to work, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucks the warm shaft into his mouth. It fills his mouth and hits his throat, and Yuri takes a relaxing breath through his nose and focuses on the taste of him in his mouth, the weight of him on his tongue. 

He’s not exceptionally long, just average, but god he’s thick and heavy and the musky scent that fills his nose is heavenly. He wants to bury his nose in the dark curls at the base of his cock, so he does, swallowing around him as he does.

Otabek groans above him, and fingernails dig into his scalp again, trying to push him further down still. 

He thrusts up against his mouth, and Yuri hears a rev in the engine when he does. The reminder that Otabek’s in charge of a speeding car sends a burst of pleasure through Yuri. He wants to make Otabek lose control. He wants to make Otabek give in and pull over. Wants Otabek to fuck him against the hood of his expensive, probably stolen car. 

He’s lost in these thoughts when Otabek pulls him up by the fistfull of hair before shoving him down on his cock again.

Yuri can feel drool slipping out the side of his mouth but he ignores it, instead he focuses on bobbing himself on Otabek’s cock, pushing up against his hand when he pulls and moaning around his cock when he pushes him down so far his nose is buried in dark curls.

Otabek mutters a soft, “Fuck, Yuri,” giving in and letting himself thrust up into Yuri’s mouth as well, his foot hitting the gas sporadically as he does.

Yuri’s not surprised when they turn and come to a lurching stop. He’s smiling and even let’s out a little laugh when Otabek pulls him off his wet cock. Their lips meet in a sloppy kiss, Otabek tasting himself in Yuri’s mouth as he pulls the leather jacket off his thin arms. 

Otabek reaches behind him to open the car door and pulls Yuri out with him. Yuri responds to the man handling with a hard bite accompanying the next kiss. When Yuri tugs at his hair in retaliation Yuri can’t help the small whimper that escapes his lips.

The door slams closed, and Yuri swears he must’ve died and by some miracle gone to a personalized heaven. 

The evening air is cold against his shoulders and chest when Otabek pulls off the tight tank he wore under his jacket. Yuri takes a moment to look up at their surroundings. The road they’d come off of was gravel, and now they’re parked in a patch of dirt, further off he can see trees, and the tops of them are dark against the backdrop of a sunset. 

Otabek’s mouth is on his neck, biting down to his chest where he flicks his tongue over a sensitive from the air nipple. Yuri shivers, digs his fingers into Otabek’s sweater and lets himself be guided to the front of the car. 

Fuck, he really must be dreaming. Or dead. He helps Otabek kick off his boots and wiggles out of his shorts, the thong he’s wearing underneath can hardly count as underwear, and the fishnet tights are already ripped at his crotch. 

The hood of the car is still welcomingly warm from the engine. The crunch of the gravel under Otabek’s shoes as he arranges Yuri against the hood mixes with their heavy breathing and the distant sound of trees in the wind. 

He lays on his back and lets Otabek push his legs back until he’s bent in half. He holds them there by the back of his knees for him, not surprised when Otabek pulls a packet of lube out from his back pocket, ripping it open sloppily and squeezing it out onto his fingers. 

They don’t waste time stretching him open, Otabek simply rubs his sensitive hole with the warming gel and coats his cock before shoving in. Yuri’s had enough practice to know just how to relax and let him in.

The leather of Otabek’s pants slaps against his backside as he thrusts into him, still fully clothed as he fucks into Yuri, who’s naked bar the ripped tights and dislocated thong. With the minimal preparations the stretch just borders on painful, and it has Yuri crying out with whimpers and mewls at every thrust.

Otabek has him folded in half with his body now, letting Yuri use his hands to dig into Otabek’s scalp and pull at the short hair. Otabek’s fingers are tangled in his tights as he grips his thighs, hopefully causing bruises.

Yuri’s cock is halfway trapped under his thong and twisted tights, but the constriction is only adding to his pleasure. It makes him think of Otabek tussing up his cock in a ring or cage, denying him orgasm as he pleasures himself with Yuri’s body. 

The thought, the feeling of being used for Otabek’s pleasure forces a strangled moan out of Yuri’s mouth. Something about Otabek makes Yuri want to give himself over to him, to completely surrender to his every wish.

Maybe it’s a subconscious feeling of debt from the service and money Otabek gave to him. Or maybe it’s the dark brown eyes that look at him like they can see into his soul. 

Or maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t been fucked properly in a long time, and every time Otabek brushes his prostate he’s seeing stars.

Otabek pulls at the bands of his tights and thong, making Yuri whimper at the new pressure it adds to his dick. Otabek’s hand reaches between them and fists his cock along with the fabric that constricts it. Yuri feels himself shaking as Otabek strokes him to the rhythm of his thrusts.

His orgasm hits him like a sudden wall, has him clawing onto Otabek’s sweater and his thighs moving to clamp at his sides. He stays wrapped around him while Otabek fucks into him to chase his own release. 

He rests his head on the crook of Yuri’s neck when he cums, breathing in his scent and pressing a gentle kiss to the sweaty skin there. 

Otabek pulls out with an audible squelch, and Yuri only moves enough so he can sit properly on the hood of the car. 

He can feel Otabek’s cum drip down his thighs. He wonders if it’ll get on the car, wonders if Otabek will care. 

Otabek returns to him with a rag and a black and white sweatshirt. He helps Yuri clean off his stomach and thighs before handing him the warmer shirt. Yuri holds it for a moment as he gathers his composure back. He picks the rag back up and gives his sweaty torso another wipe down before putting on the sweatshirt. 

It’s soft and warm, and despite Otabek being on the short side it hits him below his ass. It’s probably long on Otabek too. 

He doesn’t even realize Otabek’s gotten on his knees before his feet are being fitted into his boots again, and the action makes Yuri laugh.

“Such a prince charming,” he teases and isn’t disappointed when Otabek pushes him back down onto the hood and gives him a sloppy kiss.

“Does that make you my princess?” he asks, mouth barely pulled away from his. 

Yuri lets out a breathy chuckle, “I’m a pretty shitty princess.”

When Otabek picks him up off the hood bridal style, Yuri goes up with an, “Oompf,” sound. He’s glad Otabek isn’t flashy enough for some tiny little sports car, as the sedan gives him plenty of room to be gently placed in his seat, despite being of a fairly decent height.

He’s left alone in the car for a bit as Otabek gathers up the clothes that were discarded on the dirt. He takes the time to take off his shoes and finally get out of the tights and thong that are now messy with cum along with being torn. 

With a little bit of rearranging he’s able to get a sack to toss them in. The shirt and shorts join them when Otabek comes back with them.

He answers Otabek’s questioning look with a kiss, “I’ve worn them too many times,” he tells him, “They have so many bad memories. I’m letting them leave with a good one.”

He grins at Otabek, knows he must look like a fucking freak right now with his tussled up hair and eyeliner probably all over his face, but Otabek looks at him like he’s never seen anything more beautiful and gives him one more kiss before starting up the car and getting back to the road.

Yuri relaxes into his seat, pulls his leather jacket over his lap, and lets the roar of the road drift him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be longer, but I start an intersession course tomorrow and I'll need the power of kudos and comments to get me through. This'll probably turn into a series, so if you have anything you'd love to see in an AU like this, let me know!


End file.
